


Avalanche

by DisappointMe



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 11:45:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2149575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisappointMe/pseuds/DisappointMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which everything falls apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Avalanche

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting from LJ.

“I was thinking that we could do Thanksgiving at your mom’s house,” Chris says, putting the coffee creamer back in the refrigerator and leaning back against the counter, eyes falling to where the dark hairs on his arms stand out against where his elbows rest on the breakfast bar. “And maybe Christmas with my folks?”

When Zach sighs, Chris’s lips form a tight line for a moment but relax milliseconds later and then force their way into an empty smile. “Or we can do Christmas with your mom, too. I know it’s been a while since we’ve both been there so I’m sure my parents will understand. And I can take a flight back the day after because we’ll be on a really tight production schedule and you –”

Zach’s rough, sharp voice cuts into Chris’ monologue, but it’s his words that make his blood run cold, “I’ve been fucking other men.”

Chris closes his eyes and breathes. Blocks the sight of Zach looking so resigned; fights the panic and pain and all-consuming terror his words bring; bites back the bile that’s slowly crawling up his esophagus. He breathes. He opens his eyes and pointedly doesn’t look at Zach – he can’t, not yet, not and still be able to keep his blood pumping, his heart beating – and he continues.

“Tight production schedule, so I can fly back a day or two after and you can come home with me. If that’s what you want. And New Year’s in New York. I want you to have that. I know how much it means to you, and I’ll be able to –”

“That’s it?”

“—get away for the weekend. Again, it’ll be tight, but I can do that. But if you want to do something else –”

“You’re just going to ignore it?” He’s still not looking at Zach, but he can feel the heat of his gaze burning holes into his skin, the manic desperation in his voice. “You’re going to ignore me. You’re going to look the other way.”

And something in Chris breaks. It’s the tenuous hold on whatever it is that’s been keeping this mess with Zach from coming to a head. It’s gone and he has nothing left. He sighs. “Why not? I’ve been looking the other way for months. Why should telling me what I already know make things any different?”

When he finally looks up and meets Zach’s eyes, he looks just the way Chris feels: hurt and angry and so, so tired. They’ve acknowledged the elephant in the room and Chris’s biggest nightmare is playing out between them. He doesn’t have an ounce of fight left in him. He rubs his hands over his eyes, mostly so he doesn’t have to look at Zach. Or whoever this is sitting in front of him now. He’s not even sure he knows who this man is anymore.

“I knew that first night. You came home late and you kissed me. And we had sex that was better than, fuck, I don’t know. Better than it had been in a whole year, maybe, and you told me you loved me and begged me to fuck you and said you were mine and I _knew_. And you wouldn’t let me go and you asked me to hold you and I stayed awake trying to figure out what to do. Trying to talk myself into leaving. Telling myself that I’d talk to you about it in the morning but I just… _couldn’t._ I couldn’t. Then it happened again and again and again and you lied. You told so many lies but I couldn’t deal with it. I can’t deal with it.”

“You can’t just box up and hide away what doesn’t fit into your perfect life plan, Chris. You can’t ignore the indisputable fucking truth.” It’s the same fight they’ve been having for years, but this time Zach’s words don’t hold any bite. He’s tired, too.

“Don’t you see?” He throws his arms up, palms turned outward. Complete submission. “If you’re doing this for attention because I work all the time, or because you resent me for not letting you come out and dragging me with you, or because our sex life sucks because we fight more than we fuck, fine, whatever. But…Zach. If you…if you don’t want me anymore. If you don’t love me, then I don’t want to know. Having this spiteful, mean shell of who you used to be is better than not having you at all because I love you. I still love you so much and I don’t want to talk about this because I don’t want you to tell me that you don’t feel the same and I don’t want to admit that if this is what you need to do to get back at me that I’ll let you because I need you. It’s pathetic and disgusting but you’re still all I want.”

Chris stares at Zach, looks right into his deep eyes and nearly drowns is the nauseating mix of betrayal and love that he feels when he looks at him. He hadn’t been able to reconcile this before and he certainly can’t now. Zach’s eyes are big and wide and so sad and he can feel the words before Zach even says them: “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” And Chris knows what Zach isn’t saying. He’s not sorry for hurting Chris, but he’s sorry that he wanted to and Chris understands, even if he wishes he didn’t. In this, he’s nothing like Zach. He’d give his own life to keep Zach from feeling like this, even now.

Zach’s hand opens, fingers barely reaching and Chris doesn’t have to move very far. Steps forward half a step and Zach’s hand is curled around his waist, his head tucked against Chris’ side. He’s breathing so hard that Chris thinks he might hyperventilate, but Chris wraps a hand around the back of his neck and it seems to calm him. It’s the most they’ve touched each other in too long and he hates how good it feels. Even with the counter between them and the knob of a drawer pressed into his hip, it feels good.

“I wanted you to feel like I felt. I told myself it was because I hated you. But I hated me.” Zach’s words aren’t pitying or self-deprecating. Just hard truth. Chris ducks his head, buries his nose into Zach’s hair and breathes him in. Zach’s next words are soft, nearly lost in the cotton of Chris’ shirt, the sound of the avalanche settling. “We’re killing each other.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

Chris stays still, and quiet, touching as much of Zach as he can reach. “Okay.”

“I need…you. I need you not to leave me. I deserve it, I do, but don’t. Please don’t.” Zach pulls away and it takes everything in Chris to let him. Zach reaches out and grabs for Chris’s hands, clutching them in his own. His eyes are wild and pleading and Chris knows with a swell of sickening certainty that whatever Zach asks of him, he won’t say no. “Tell me – Chris, _Chris_ tell me that we can get past this. I still love you, I do, so much. Tell me we’ll get past this.”

Finally, the wave of grief for everything they’d let slip away, for everything they used to be, what they became, all of it, hits him suddenly and with near-paralyzing force. He reaches across the counter and hugs Zach, feels Zach’s hands pulling at him, digging into his skin, as he mourns for all they’ve lost and the very little they still have left. He doesn’t feel better. He isn’t happy. They won’t be, probably not for a long time. He tucks his face into the crook of Zach’s neck and holds him just as much as he is being held.

“We have to.”


End file.
